<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>The Diary of Lan Zhan by AitchNKay</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29840112">The Diary of Lan Zhan</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AitchNKay/pseuds/AitchNKay'>AitchNKay</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>MDZS, Mo Dau Zu Shi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, mo dau zu shi - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-30</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:14:05</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>7,060</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29840112</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AitchNKay/pseuds/AitchNKay</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>After reading a few fan fictions on what Lan Zhan was feeling during those 13 years, I day dreamed about what he would write down in a diary. Unfortunately, pretty much my entire daydream is still in my head as it sounded silly when I sat down to actually write the darn thing. So this is what came out instead. Oh well. </p><p>Sometimes my stories force me to write them the way they want to come out rather than what I was planning. If you like it, please vote and comment. I really enjoy reading comments on my work. </p><p>Thank you for reading.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It has been three years and seventy-two days since you left. Grandmaster says I need to stop acting as if my wife is dead. Brother says I need to live a normal life for my son. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>For your son.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is he truly your son? He doesn’t look like you. He acts a bit like you, though. There are hints of you in his smile. In the way he laughs when we play with your rabbits. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You are irresponsible about so much in your life, but I cannot honestly see you having a child and not marrying the mother. Or letting him call you Gege instead of Baba. So I don’t think he is your son. Even as I long for him to be. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I have almost nothing to remind me of you. There is almost nothing to show you existed as something other than a warning to small children to behave. I have a few crumpled notes you threw across the classroom at me. A paperman that I think was used to trip Jiang WanYin. A hair ribbon I found in your room after you left Cloud Recesses. A few dried flowers. Those notes you threw at me in the library. The portrait you drew; I have them all hidden away from prying eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Those notes could have been written by anyone. The paperman cut out by anyone. Those flowers thrown at me by anyone, stolen from anyone. The portrait is unsigned. The ribbon could have been worn by anyone. There is nothing I have that is unmistakably yours. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your sword, your flute: I suppose they’re locked away in some trophy room at Lotus Pier. Or destroyed. Your body. Destroyed? Were you really eaten by your puppets? Or blown apart? Or are you hiding away, drinking wine and laughing at us for believing you could ever do something as mundane and boring as to die by your own creations?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brother says for your A’Yuan’s sake I must come back to the living. I must find a way to stop mourning you so much. I must teach him to become the man you would want him to be. I’m sorry that I cannot raise him to be as carefree as you would have; I don’t know how to be like you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When will you come back to me? I will stay silently by your side for as long as you allow me. Please let me stay with you forever. Come back to me. I will hide my perverted nature and just be your friend. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There is so much I never told you before that last day. So much I couldn’t say. Even if I had ever been physically able to talk to you, I would never have said it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How could I tell you of my perversion?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You once saw me as a morally upright person, worthy of your respect and admiration. At the end, when I told you some of how I felt, you found me disgusting. Not worthy of being used to wipe the dust from your shoes. If you can forget my behavior there, I promise I will keep it hidden for the rest of our lives. I will stand calmly by your side at your wedding and be an uncle to your children. Just please come back to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Get lost you said after I confessed my sin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I am lost without you. No direction. My compass used to point to you and now it just spins with the wind. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Get lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>How many times did you say that to me? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I left you to be punished. Grandmaster said it was for injuring the Lan seniors. I don’t accept the blame or the responsibility for hurting them. I don't accept that I was punished for hurting them. They chose to attack you at the Burial Mounds; they could have stayed home and stayed safe. They are responsible for their own injuries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I deserved to be punished because I hurt you. Being whipped thirty-three times is a small price to pay for pushing you away all those years. For my abhorrent desires. I could have had your friendship all along, but I kept you away. It was easier for me to keep you at arms length. Now that you’ve left, all I have left are memories of standing apart from you. You only ever asked me for my friendship; why did I deny you something so simple? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Would you have died alone if I had accepted your friendship? Would you have let me stay at your side at the end? Would you have let me die with you? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I have wished so often these last three years and seventy-two days that I had had the conviction to stay in the Burial Mounds and to die with you. Or that I had the courage to follow you into our next lives. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The one thing that holds me to this life is lying asleep in his bed right now. Now matter how much I want to follow you, I cannot abandon your child. Even if he isn’t your biological child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Your A’Yuan is growing so fast. He’s only lived with me for a few months and already I’ve had to let his hems down. You would be proud of him. He can read about one hundred words already and write forty or so neatly. He’s learning how to play the guqin as well. Every night I have to coat his little fingers with healing cream and wrap them in gauze. I forgot how painful it is to learn to play. Already, though, he is proficient at a few basic songs. He says he wants to learn Inquiry, too. I bought him a bow and quiver, but I haven’t given it to him yet. I think it will make a nice birthday present. I had the craftsman inscribe a small lotus blossom inside a circle above the grip. When he’s older I will tell him why.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why when he’s older? When I found him after you left, he was quite ill. Brother nursed him back to health; I was too ill myself from the whips to care for the child. Brother says that when A’Yuan regained his health, he had lost all memories of his life before waking up in Cloud Recesses. I suppose it’s a good thing that he cannot remember his clan being murdered. I wish that he remembered you, though. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has a favorite rabbit; her name is Ball. It’s not a very exciting name, perhaps, but Ball seems to know her name. We go to the glade where they live almost every day, and she hops right over to him. He always feeds her first. He tries to sneak her back to our home every once in a while. He pretends that his robes wiggle all on their own; it is very cute to watch. I can picture you watching him; you would be rolling on the ground laughing upon seeing his attempts at playing innocent. I have a hard time being stern and making him leave her in the glade. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes, I know you gave me two male rabbits. So I’m sure you’re wondering how Ball is a girl. I found more on various travels years ago, before you left, and brought them to the glade so your rabbits could have some company. They did what rabbits do, and now there are almost fifty. There should be more; I suspect that some have ended up in cooking pots. Or in the bellies of foxes or wolves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you read this from wherever you are, I’m sorry. I’m not writing this letter to tell you about your son. I can tell you everything about him when you return. I’m supposed to be writing this letter for me. Therapy, Brother calls it. A way to heal. A way to move forward through the endless pain of loss. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I miss you. I miss you like a widower misses his beloved wife. I miss arguing with you. I miss your laughter. Your impatience. Your hunger for life. Your self-confidence. Your insecurities. Your sense of justice. How you saw shades of gray instead of black and white, good and evil. I miss your smile. The way you teased me. I even miss how clueless you are about how other people see you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I love you. I love you. I love you. I could write this all day. Words that never passed my lips since my mother left me. I want to scream them at you. I love you the way a man loves a woman. My mind, my body, my soul. Every part of me loves every part of you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Every part of me is hurting because you’re gone. There is a humongous hole missing from my being that is an exact match to you.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pain of those thirty-three whip lashes was less than that from losing you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I would gladly kneel to be punished thirty-three more times if it would bring you back to me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or if it would just bring you back. You don’t even have to come back to me. Just please come back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I know you probably don’t want to be my friend anymore. You rejected my unnatural love that last day. I can only hope that when you return, you can ignore those words. Like you ignored our kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Do you remember it? Did you even know that it was me kissing you? You must have; you always seemed to know where I was. Just like I knew where you were. It was like we were tied by a string back then. No matter how far from me you were, I always knew your approximate location. Or at least your direction. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gave you my first kiss; how many others tasted you before me? Don’t tell me; I really don’t want to know. I really can’t bear to think of the women who know the feeling of your lips pressed against theirs. I hate that they know the sounds you make, the way your breathing hitches, how your body strains to touch. I want to be petty and demean them and call them prostitutes. I’m sure the reality is that they were very nice women whose morals slipped a bit because it was you asking to kiss them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hate them. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I don’t know which was more shameless of me: kissing you or confessing my love to you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This shameless person dreamed of you last night. You were fifteen again in your student uniform, sitting on top of the wall after curfew and holding jars of Emperor’s Smile. You said, “I’ll share these with you if you let me in without telling the Grandmaster.” I, of course, told you that you could not come into Cloud Recesses after curfew and especially not with wine. So you asked what I would accept to let you in. I told you I would not accept any bribes. You told me that I should not think of it as a bribe, that it was merely an exchange of goods or services. A barter, if you will. So what was I willing to barter for you to enter Cloud Recesses without being punished? My dream self told you that you could service me. You jumped down from the wall and pushed me to the ground. You straddled me, pulled my robes open, and poured a small bit of wine on my stomach. After you lapped it up, you started drizzling it on my chest and neck. You cleaned up every rivlet and asked if you had serviced me enough. I said no, so you poured some in my mouth and drank from me. You were very active in seeking out every droplet of the wine. Again and again, you treated me as a wine cup. I don’t know which was more intoxicating: the wine or your kisses. At last the first jar was empty, so you again asked if you had serviced me enough yet. Of course, I said no again, so you reached for my trousers. I woke up at that point and had to go change my sleeping robes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Most of my dreams of you end up with me changing my clothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This is too embarrassing. Instead of burning paper money for you, I will burn this letter. I’m torn between hoping you can read this wherever you are and fearing your reaction if you do read it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My love. You are forever my love. </span>
</p><hr/><p>
  <span>A/N: If you see typos, please let me know so I can fix them. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. 1 year, 134 days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I had no intention of writing to you again. I embarrassed myself enough with my first letter. It has only been twenty days since I burned my first missive and resolved to not to write another one, and yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Here I am. Confessing my sins to you once again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I went on a night hunt last week supervising a group of juniors. One is extremely inept; I have no idea how he passed any of his exams. (He makes Nie HuaiSang look competent, just to give you an idea of his abilities.) He met up with a measuring snake, and of course, the snake was much taller than this boy; his head is barely taller than my shoulder. When the snake attacked, he swung his sword around, flailing as if he had never received a single lesson in his life. He eventually managed to make a lucky strike and chopped off an arms length or so of its tail. That was enough to incapacitate the creature, and he then killed it. In the process, however, he had been bitten in several places and was slimed with its spittle and entrails. The boy was rather upset that I stood by and watched him struggle instead of killing the creature for him. Had you been there, you would have said something witty and scathing, like, “If the snake had swallowed you, you’d have deserved it for forgetting your training!” I just said, “You’re still alive, aren’t you?” and walked away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boys all whispered about how cold and severe I was. And how much they admired my composure and wished they could be like me when they grew up. As if there is something to admire about me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s because they don’t know the truth. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I am not worthy of their respect and admiration.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I am a thief. I stole. I returned the items, but still. On our way out to the hunting grounds, we passed through a town that had a print shop. I heard two young men leaving the shop talking eagerly about the porn they had just purchased and how they couldn’t wait to use it on each other. After I saw the juniors safely back in Cloud Recesses, I returned to the town. My clothing, however, is recognizable and I wanted to be forgettable. So when I passed by a farmhouse with dry laundry hanging in the yard and no one around, I took a set. I rented a room in an inn, changed into the clothing, and went to the print shop. My face felt like it was on fire from embarrassment; the proprietor was very kind and pointed me towards the cut sleeve books. I practically threw money at him and ran back to the inn. I changed again, and returned the clothing barely the worse for wear along with some money. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So I now am the owner of two cut sleeve pornography books. And I’m too embarrassed to read them. I hid them under a loose floorboard. But everyday when I see A’Yuan running about the room or Brother comes to visit, I have a slight moment of panic that maybe they will notice the sound difference of that board and pry it up and see my shame. I think I should burn them. I somehow think that if I do, though, I would simply make another trip to that print shop and buy another book. I suppose I just need to find a better hiding spot. You would have the perfect spot already picked out. For that matter, you wouldn’t feel the need to hide it. Even if you bought a book for cut sleeves, you wouldn’t hide it. You’d probably share it with your friends and laugh at it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A’Yuan distracted me; he was injured during sword practice, and in my haste to take care of his wound, I forgot to burn this letter. I just hid it in a stack of books. Don’t worry; he’s fine. He doesn’t even have a scar. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You have been gone for three years and one hundred and thirty four days now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I still miss you. So much. I still ache for you. That has not changed one bit since the day you left. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I filed the paperwork to properly adopt A’Yuan a little over a month ago, to make him my official son. Uncle scolded me and said I did not need to take such drastic actions. That I can foster him and he can stay in Cloud Recesses as a guest disciple. Uncle thinks A’Yuan is your son; he called him Wei Yuan. I let him believe the lie as I’m sure Wen Yuan will get a worse reception than Wei Yuan.  Uncle does know I brought the boy back from the Burial Mounds, and I introduced him to Brother as Wen Yuan. Perhaps Uncle simply thinks you’re a disgraceful father for failing to marry A’Yuan’s mother, so he gave the child your surname as a way to make it seem like the two of you did the right thing? I don’t feel the need to ask Uncle what is actually going on inside his head. Most conversations we have that are not about Lan official business end up in an argument it seems. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brother asked me to consider Uncle’s advice, saying what would happen to the boy if and when you returned. I know exactly what will happen when you return: I will ask you to live in Cloud Recesses, and you will say no. You will have no other place to go, though. Unless you return to the Burial Mounds? Wherever you go, I will follow. For as long as you let me. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>In any case, I told Brother, regardless of Uncle’s opinion, that I would be adopting A’Yuan as my official son. As of yesterday Wen Yuan was listed on the Lan rolls as my son and heir, Lan Yuan. Brother doesn’t understand why I am willing to upset Uncle over such a trivial matter. However, if the adoption is truly such a trivial matter, why was Uncle scolding me about it? I told Brother that if he didn’t support the adoption, that I would tell everyone that I was A’Yuan’s biological father. That I had had an affair with a woman after Cloud Recesses burned and it continued until well into the SunShot Campaign. All those days where I searched alone, first for Brother and then for you… I will claim that I spent that time in bed with that unnamed woman. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m not sure what horrifies Brother more: that I would be willing to lie to get my way or that I might be telling a partial truth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I will admit, on the surface, adoption is a rather final action, and not really necessary to seal the father-son bond I hope we develop. It’s not like as a foster father I would care less for him than if he was my adopted son. On top of that, I will never marry a woman, and I will never take one to my bed. I have long accepted that. So I will never have a biological child. Fostering and adopting are the only ways I will ever be a father. Your A’Yuan is a sweet child. Smart, obedient, loving, cheerful, helpful. I could not hope to have a better child. And then I think of you, and I realize that, yes, adopting rather than fostering is extremely necessary. As my adopted son, he is afforded Clan protections that he would not have as a guest disciple. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When I stop to actually think about your childhood with a critical mind instead of the careless way you described it…. How many times have I heard you talk about your Shijie? Or heard you call Jiang WanYin your Shidi? It was said that you were adopted into the Jiang family, and yet it was always quite apparent that you never were </span>
  <em>
    <span>actually </span>
  </em>
  <span>adopted into that family. Uncle Jiang is what you called the former Sect leader. Madame Yu for his wife. Those are names for foster parents, not adopted parents. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You would probably say something glib to that statement, like your Uncle Jiang did not want to disrespect his friends by replacing them in your life. That is nonsense. How is it disrespect to take in an orphaned child as your own? Especially the child of a friend? You would have known that Sect Leader Jiang was not replacing your parents; he was stepping in for them in their absence. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lan Yuan will call me Father. Not Uncle Lan. I will be his family and do my best to raise him in honor of the parents and gege he lost. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Do you even remember your parents? I never thought to ask. I was too busy running from you, from my feelings, from my depravity, to think about your family. I don’t even know if you had siblings. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I barely remember my mother. Just monthly visits that were all too short. I was too busy during them trying to show her that I was a good child for my Uncle to be a good child to her. I’m sure she was happy to listen to me read to her and to show off my calligraphy and math skills. But I’m also sure, having been a parent for several months now, that she would have enjoyed just talking to me about my life apart from school work. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Have you met my mother? I hope so…. And I hope not at the same time. You don’t have very many fond memories of me to share with her, I think. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>If you do meet her, please ask if she died peacefully. As a child, I didn’t understand ‘gone’. I thought maybe she was traveling to Caiyi town or something. Uncle Lan would occasionally be ‘gone’ on a night hunt. ‘Gone’ was a temporary thing. When I was old enough to understand that she was dead, I didn’t know how to ask how she died. Instead I read our healers’ papers before they were burned by the Wens. If asked, I was planning on saying that I was reading them to gain a better understanding of our Sect’s healing techniques. No one ever bothered to ask. In reality, I was searching to see if Mother died of an illness.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She was not mentioned in the diaries. So was she not sick or was she simply not written about? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>There are days when I am sunk in sadness from missing you, and I believe with all of my soul that she took her own life. That she decided Brother and I were old enough to not need her anymore, and so she left us. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wonder the same about you. Did you deliberately destroy the Tiger Amulet knowing that you would be destroyed along with it? Were you so… done with life that you chose to end it? It makes a certain kind of sense. Your Wen friends were killed. Jiang WanYin abandoned you and wanted to kill you. The rest of your family was dead. The one person left who still loved you, you sent away. The rest of the world saw you as evil.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I apologize for the water stains on the paper. If I thought I could actually give this to you, I would try to lie about spilling a cup of water. But since I’m going to burn this letter, too, I will admit the truth. I’m crying as I write this. I miss you so much. There is a physical pain to missing you, not just the emotional pain. My chest hurts, my stomach hurts. And I hurt even more thinking that perhaps you wanted to kill yourself. That you deliberately committed suicide instead of accidentally. I hate to think of you, alone on that mountain, facing the brother you loved who now wanted you dead. I know you well enough to know that you would never have allowed him to be the one to kill you. You love him too much to let him bear that weight. I know you well enough to know that you </span>
  <em>
    <span>would</span>
  </em>
  <span> choose suicide over his fratricide. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why couldn’t you have chosen to run away instead? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Have you met up with your parents? I sincerely hope you have. I hate to think of you being dead and all alone out there. You’re the kind of person who needs to be around other people. Preferably other people who adore you and admire you. I’m sure your parents still love you and  adore you, even though you cultivated a demonic path. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>You deserve to be adored.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sometimes, in my dreams, I see you running and playing with Jiang YanLi. She’s smiling and calling you XianXian and telling you how proud of you she is. I can see in your eyes how much you cherish each other. I’m jealous of your affection for her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To my eternal shame, I adore you. I love you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I had decided to tell you that in XuanWu’s cave. Your fever was increasing and we had no medicine since you used almost all of it on my leg. I honestly thought you were going to die on me. I wasn’t feeling too well, either, after days of not eating. I thought, seriously thought, about cutting up and roasting some of that turtle meat, I was so hungry. In the end, I figured eating rancid meat would do us more harm than simply starving to death. More than once I hallucinated that you told me to kill you and eat you. You told me that your flesh was far more tender than the flesh of a four hundred year old evil turtle. Some days I’m not quite convinced that I was hallucinating as that sounds exactly like something you’d say. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Anyway, your fever was high and you were shaking like you were cold, so I laid down next to you and held you tightly. I thought that maybe it would make you feel more comfortable, help your body and mind to heal. But holding you so close… my desire for you rose almost uncontrollably. My mind was hurting with the fear of losing you and my body was hurting from wanting to possess you. “I love you” was desperate to come out of my mouth. I didn’t want to say it in case you were aware and we lived, and I didn’t want to not say it in case we died. I was determined to hold it in as long as possible. To only tell you at the very end. Jiang WanYin came before death did, obviously. And luckily for me, when I heard them breaking open the cave entrance, I had enough energy to stop holding you, so when they found us, we were not in an incriminating position. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>While I’m being honest with you…. Holding you while you slept was one of the most incredible moments of my life. If I am allowed wishes to come true once you return, one of them would be to sleep with you in my arms again. In my imagination, we’re traveling together, perhaps on a night hunt, and the inn has just one room available, so we share it. You say to me that it’s all right for us to share a bed, after all we are both men. I lay down to sleep at nine, as usual, and you toss and turn, keeping me awake since you prefer to sleep at a later time. I pretend to get angry, and roll over onto my side, pinning your arms with mine, with your back to my front. You struggle for a bit, but I am stronger than you, so eventually you give up and relax into my embrace. Then you try to make me let go of you by teasing me. “Lan Zhan, Lan Zhan,” you coo. “You are so strong! If I were a woman, I’d be melting into a puddle of goo right now!” No… that doesn’t sound like you. The calling my name part, yes. But I think maybe you would be more exasperated than teasing. “Lan Zhan, this is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> how men share a bed! You would know this if you had any friends! Stop holding onto me, and I’ll show you how two men sleep together! I’ve slept with loads of men before!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Speaking of sharing a bed…. I read the pornography books I bought. I know you’ve read plenty of the men and women ones, but have you seen a cut sleeve one? These were very… enlightening. Educational. Affirming. If there was ever a moment where I debated whether my love for you was only mental and not physical, these books have shown me, conclusively, that it is definitely both. I read a page, and in my mind I can see you and me enacting the written word. I superimpose your face and body over the drawings. Well, the parts of your body that I’ve actually seen. I can only imagine what remained hidden from my view.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As shameless as you were about removing your robes and shirt in front of me, you never did remove your trousers. You did, however, stand before me only in your trousers after falling into that lake…. The wet clothing clung to your skin quite nicely, and I have been able to keep that memory intact all these years. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now I’m going to burn this letter. And pray that you never receive it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My love. You are forever my love.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. 3 years, 215 days</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>I am a useless wretch. I wasn’t ever going to write to you again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I miss you too much, I think, to give up writing to you like this. I can control the urge to an extent, but not forever. I dream of you. Every night you are in my arms and I wake up aching and miserable with wanting you. Or I’m watching you play and fool around and I wake up crying because I never joined you. Sometimes I can’t remember the details, but I wake up sweating and anxious, and all I know is that you left me again. Whether you simply left me behind or you died, I can never remember. I just remember the aching sense of loss…. Losing you in my dreams amplifies the feeling from having lost you for real. It is rather difficult to get up and function like an adult on those days; I want to just curl up in my blankets and hide away like I’m a child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When will you return? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can picture you there, you know. Alone in blackness, sighing from boredom and blowing at your bangs to keep occupied. You sometimes sit in a lotus position like you’re going to meditate, but you keep peeking around to see if anyone is watching. Because what is the point in meditating after death? You’re just trying to get in someone’s good graces to allow you to leave that place. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or are you lying casually in a grassy field in dappled sunlight drinking from a never ending jar of Emperor’s Smile? You’re half covered in flowers young women have thrown at you in honor of your beauty and bravery. Your Shijie sits primly on a blanket nearby and shakes her head in smiling exasperation at the volume of wine you consume. And behind her is Jin ZiXuan alternating between scowling at you and smiling like an idiot at his wife. Perhaps your Wen friends are there as well, finally free of oppression and resentment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I prefer to think of you surrounded by the ones you love. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I would prefer to be the one surrounding you with my love.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I saw your Shidi the other day. We had a report of a rather nasty demon that had already killed half a dozen people, so I went off to deal with it. Jiang WanYin was there as well. Oddly enough, he was without any disciples…. He growled at me, telling me that you weren’t there. Of course you weren’t. Did he think you released the demon? Is he that much of an idiot? You used resentful energy, performed demonic cultivation. You didn’t actually summon demons. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I contemplated how to kill him. Jiang WanYin that is. I already knew how to kill the demon. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I wish I was ashamed to write this. Or ashamed at having thought about killing him. The only thing that stopped me was that I could not come up with a convincing lie. Anyone who examined the body would know it was Bichen that killed him. So there was no way for me to not be known as his executioner. I was looking for a way to plausibly state that his death was accidental and a result of me killing the demon. While I want to execute your murderer, I don’t want to be executed myself for killing him. At least not yet. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He deserves to die. Horribly. Slowly. In agony. For months. When I’m feeling particularly angry at him, I imagine cutting off one body part a day. Ten days to remove his toes. Another six for his legs, eight if I cut his lower leg bones out one at a time. I could stretch out his execution for over a month if I tried really hard! </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I hate him more than I hated the Wens who killed my father and destroyed my home. Those Wen-dogs hurt me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Jiang WanYin? He hurt you. He abandoned you. Destroyed you. Made you force me to leave you. Made you leave me. What he did was so much worse than what those Wen-dogs did to me.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can’t kill him, though, can I. Not because of the deadly consequences for me, but because of the look in your eyes when you come back and you hear what I have done. You would regret me murdering your Shidi. Because even after he publicly rejected you, attacked you, denied you the right to exist… even after all that, you will forgive him when you return. Because regardless of how he sees you, you see him as your Didi and you love him. You don’t even really see him as simply a sect brother, do you. To him, you were only ever a shixiong, but to you, he is your blood brother, even though you were respectful and called him your Shidi. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Do you love me? Could you ever love me? Even as just a friend? Or an older brother? Can I ever become more to you? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I know I promised I would love you in silence, but right now I miss you so much. It seems like I only write to you when the mental pain turns physical. I need you, my love. I need to see you, to touch you, to love you. It hurts… </span>
  <em>
    <span>there</span>
  </em>
  <span> from wanting you. My chest hurts with every beat of my heart. It’s hard to breathe properly. You have been gone for three years, two hundred and fifteen days, and I feel the loss of every single day.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can hardly wait to see you again. To see you smiling and laughing. Watch your eyes glowing with your happiness and lust for life. Do you know how adorable you are when you smile so hard your cheeks puff up and your eyes are squished into a thin squinty line? Or when you’ve been caught doing something naughty and your eyes widen so much as you think of whether it’s better to admit to your mistake or you think you might be able to talk your way out of being punished. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I can picture you in my mind; you’re walking ahead of me with your hair carelessly tied back with your red ribbon. I wonder, as I always have, what you would do if I pulled on that ribbon as you pulled mine…. Brother thought I was overreacting when you pulled my ribbon off the first time. He tried to make me understand that you didn’t know what it meant. I knew the truth, though: you copied our Sect rules so many times; you knew that our ribbons can only be touched by our lovers. If I had thought you meant it, I would have been ecstatic. Of course you didn’t mean it. You just liked seeing me get flustered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You are the only person who can get me flustered so much that others can see it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Did you tease me just to tease a friend? Or did you tease me thinking that I might take it the wrong way? Or were you telling me that you liked me, too? Or did you already know that I gave you the rights to touch my ribbon almost from the first time we met?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>My heart nearly burst out of my chest when you used it to splint up my leg. And then you accused me of liking that girl. Whatever her name was. You were so proud of yourself for getting hurt protecting a girl. For getting a scar to remind you of when you protected a girl! Ha. I marked you, too! Did you ever look back at my teeth marks scarring your arm and think of me biting you? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I’ll make a bet you died still not knowing why I bit you. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jealousy is evil. A moral failing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So is deliberate ignorance. You saved her and got a scar to remember her by. Who else did you save? You probably didn’t even think about saving this worthless carcass just as you didn’t stop to think about saving her face. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I gave you the scar to remember me by. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But knowing the way you pretended to have a memory as full of holes as a poorly woven hat, I’ll make a bet that you looked at that bite mark when you were alone in your cave and told yourself that you didn’t remember how it got there. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I play Inquiry for you every night. Do you hear it? Can you hear me begging for you to talk to me? Are you laughing and happy that I miss you? Or do you silently weep as you ignore my entreaties? Why don’t you answer me?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Unless you’re not dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>You are dead. You would have heard the news by now that I adopted A’Yuan. The rumors are swirling that he is my natural son, and I am too ashamed of his mother to marry her. Do you remember, I was going to make similar claims if I wasn’t allowed to adopt him into the Clan? I smirk at the ridiculousness of them all as the rumors become more and more wild and unhinged. You would laugh and roll on the ground in hysterics upon hearing some of them. There is no way you could hear of me copulating with a she-devil and then adopting the resulting child without you coming to find me to laugh with. Or at. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Brother says I should put an end to the rumors. I remind him of our Sect rules that prohibit gossiping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Our A’Yuan is growing up more quickly than I’d like. We had to hold a funeral the other day for his rabbit, Ball. I’m not sure what ate her, but I found her remains. I knew it was Ball because A’Yuan had tied a pink ribbon around one ear and her murderer didn’t eat the ears. He’s been begging me to make a large cage for his new favorite bunny to live in when they’re not playing together. He wants one almost as big as the Jingshi’s garden so he has lots of room to hop around in. The new bunny’s name is Snow and he has a white ribbon tied around his ear. A’Yuan saw Snow copulating with another bunny and thought it cute the way he was hugging her. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I dread the day when I have to talk to him about humans copulating. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Uncle’s talk with me was less than educational. Never visit a pleasure house. Never copulate with a woman outside of marriage. Copulation is for producing children only, so if we’re not actively trying to get her pregnant, I should sleep in a different bed. I learned more about sex from the single glance I had of your porn than from his entire conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I bought another book. This time I also bought clothing for my disguise. I expected the shopkeeper to ask why a Lan Sect member was buying working class clothing from him, but he didn’t say anything. I suppose earning money is more important than caring how his clothing is to be used. I went to a different book seller, though. I found the cutsleeve section and grabbed one in the hopes that it wasn’t one I already owned. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>I blush thinking about what that book was about. When you come back to me, I really want to try it out, though. I discovered many, many uses for my head ribbon that I had never suspected existed. For example, I can tie your hands to my bed. Or your feet. Interestingly enough, one can use longer ribbons to hogtie a person…. I think I would like that one. I can have you straddle my waist with your arms bound behind your back. Or I can tie your ankles together and loop them around my head. So many ways to hold you steady so I can ravish you to my heart’s content. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The book says that the person restrained feels greater pleasure in the acts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>I want to pleasure you. So much. I need to go now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>My love. You are forever my love. </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>